It is your work in life that is the ultimate seduction.

-Pablo Picasso

Angie, engulfed in her work and unaware of her surroundings, was startled as a large, dark presence sat down next to her. With a slight jump, she found it was only Morgan, two cups of coffee in his hands. "Hey, I thought you might need this." She smiled in thanks and gladly received the coffee from him, returning her eyes to her work. She wasn't one for talk when reviewing information, such as the autopsy papers before her. "How's work over at NCIS?"

She wasn't entirely opposed to the idea of talking, since it was something she very much enjoyed. Abandoning her files, she sat up straight and stretched, letting out a small squeak as she did so. "I like it a lot. But it looks like we work a bit differently than you guys, though, at least on my team. Gibbs is a bit more demanding than Hotchner."

Morgan smiled and nodded, leaning with his elbow on the table. "It appears so. Kind of funny though, you and Reid remembering each other after so long then working together."

"Yeah, it is. But everything happens for a reason."

"Not sure if I believe that, but hey, it's all good. Need any help?"

"Nah, I've got it. I try to go through autopsy reports a lot because I'm still getting used to the whole dead-body thing. I was a lawyer in El Paso that worked mostly to help illegal immigrants, so I'm not exactly used to being around so much… death."

"Ah, so you're a lawyer." Morgan lifted his chin slightly, flashing a bemused half smile. "That explains why you're so slick."

Angie lifted a delicately plucked eyebrow, baffled by the statement. "Slick?"

"Yep." He winked and stood, returning to his place next to Prentiss in front of the bulletin board.

Well, that was certainly weird, Angie thought, shaking her head and returning to her paperwork. Finally she tired of looking at dead bodies and decided to join Tony, who was oh-so-smoothly flirting with an unreceptive JJ. He was attractive, with his strong Italian features and suave attire, but it was clear she wasn't interested. She didn't blow him off, though, and went over details with him in a very not flirtatious manner.

JJ's eyes met Angie's, growing relieved to see somebody had come to her aid. "Hey," Angie said, placing her hand on Tony's head and turning it to look at her, "have you asked JJ here about her baby? She showed me a picture of him earlier, he's quite adorable."

"Baby?" Tony's eyes swiveled back to the blonde woman he had just moments ago been heavily flirting with. With a cough, he said, "Well no, I haven't. We were just discussing whether or not there was a connection between any of the victims. McGee couldn't dig anything up other than they all went out running a lot, and the FBI's computer wiz couldn't find anything else, either."

"He's right," JJ agreed, handing over the file she had been holding to Angie to look through. "Vega was an elementary school teacher, Antonia a bartender, and Sisneros was a martial arts instructor. No need to tell you that Veronica Lopez was a Petty Officer."

"She was also the only victim not to have her wrists slit and not be in a park. Any idea why?"

Tony interjected, still a bit embarrassed to have been flirting with someone he assumed was married. "There's the possibility he was startled by the sound of the baby inside. The cradle was in a room on the bottom level of the house, and not far from an open window. It might have started crying at some point, startling the killer into thinking there was someone home, even though there were no cars outside the house. That could be why he didn't cut her wrists. He didn't have time. He just abandoned her, and she bled out internally."

"I figured as much on the baby part," Angie said, flipping through the pages. "Strange how she wasn't out at the park. All the other women had been out jogging, and it didn't rain when the Petty Officer was killed. Crime of opportunity, or a copycat?"

"Possibly." Spencer had not been sitting far, and heard most of the conversation while discussing something with Rossi. "I doubt she was the victim of a copycat, because she resembles the other victims."

Angie nodded, and opened her mouth to respond, but was interrupted. Hotch re-entered the room, Officer Burgess following closely. "Are we ready to make a profile?"

The members of the BAU all agreed, but Angie found the whole process kind of weird. At NCIS, they rarely had to come up with profiles. Everything was done by linking together evidence, and rarely was the suspect's profile a factor in anything. Still, it was interesting to hear what the BAU had to say.

The evidence was discussed, and after about an hour, the FBI was ready to give their information to the other officers. Angie sat with the police, watching the team give details they believed would help find whoever it was that was attacking those women. They stood with confidence, and delivered their profile. They believed it was a Hispanic male, whose age was between twenty-five and thirty. He was intelligent, and probably followed the weather closely. He wasn't the kind of person that could easily speak to women, probably due to feeling emasculated around them. Perhaps he had an abusive mother, or had bad experiences with girlfriends. He was taking out his rage on Hispanic women by beating them, and the wrist cutting symbolically drained them of their power over men. He probably lived in the neighborhood of Petty Officer Lopez, since she was the only victim not found in a park. Seeing her on the playground in the backyard set him off.

Angie was fascinated. She was used to dealing with psychos, but she wasn't used to looking into the subject's brain. Cutting wrists to take away their power? She would have never come up with something like that just by looking over information and talking to people. She was good at piecing things together, but not in the way the BAU was.

"But why parks?" An officer asked, not looking up from his pad of paper. He was still scribbling down notes.

Spencer was the one to answer this question. "It might have something to do with a traumatic event in his life that took place on or near a playground. Perhaps he was embarrassed by a girlfriend at a playground, or his mother beat him in front of other children at the park."

Angie cupped her face in her hands, her elbows propped up on her legs as she listened. Everything was so fascinating. She wished suddenly she would have taken more interest in psychology while in college, instead of focusing all her time and energy on law and language. This whole profiling thing was brilliant.

Once they were finished, Angie strode up to Spencer, her head cocked gently to the side. "How interesting," she said. "Profiling isn't something we use a lot at NCIS."

He shrugged, stifling a yawn. He didn't respond to her right away, instead losing himself momentarily in her appearance. He couldn't figure out why it was so easy to talk to her, when he usually had a lot of trouble around new women. Outside of work, that is. But Angie, though now currently working with him, was different. Even at the café, the awkwardness he usually felt around women wasn't there. What did it mean?

"Well, we are the Behavioral Analysis Unit. Getting into the unsub's head is our job."

The clock on the wall behind him caught Angie's eye, and she realized it had been almost 32 hours since she got any sleep. The heads of both teams had given them leave to go and rest for a few hours after the BAU delivered their profile. "Wow, I just realized how tired I am," she said, forgetting what they were originally talking about.

Spencer looked over his shoulder at the clock. "Yep. I'm exhausted."

"Where are you guys staying?"

"The Holiday Inn not far from here. About a mile away, I think."

"We're staying at the Hilton down the road. Why don't you… join me for a drink and tell me a bit more about this whole profiling deal you've got. I'm interested."

Spencer, while tired, figured he wasn't going to fall asleep on his own anyway, so didn't see the problem. Plus she was fun and easy-going. He liked that. "Sure."

Together they gathered their things and left. Outside, Morgan leaned back in his car, the motor humming gently in the background. He saw Spencer in the rear-view mirror, walking down the street with Angie. He thought back when he and Reid had been checking nightclubs for a serial killer, and the younger man was having trouble. It was funny to see that everything he told Spencer, none of it really applied to Angie. Statistics were something Spencer knew a lot about, and while most women would have made him talk to the hand, Angie actually liked it. Morgan was glad to see there was somebody out there that liked Spencer's random facts and trivia.

Then again, Morgan thought, his colleague was probably too dense to realize it.

&&&&

As it turned out, they never actually got the drink. Out of habit, they completely bypassed the bar and headed to Angie's hotel room. Having veered off the conversation of profiling, they discussed history. How they got there, neither could remember.

After a heated debate over whether or not it was possible for an Atlantis to ever exist, they sat on the couch and zoned out into some mindless sitcom that happened to be on television. The conversation picked up every few minutes or so, before dying out again into a comfortable silence.

Suddenly, they were startled by an intense beating at the door. Angie jumped first, realizing she had drifted to sleep, and at some point had cuddled up to a snoozing Spencer. Embarrassed, she bounced from her spot and hurried to the door, attempting to hide her blushing face with her hair.

It was Gibbs at the door, Tony behind him. The older agent looked very agitated, the lines in his forehead pressed deeper. "What in the world is wrong with you?"

"What?" She was still a bit disoriented, and her vision had not quite cleared. Everything was a bit fuzzy.

"I told you we had to be back at the precinct at six."

Angie, mortified, looked at her cell phone, only to realize it was six fifteen. In Gibbs world, though, it didn't matter how late she was. If he was waiting, she was in the wrong. "Sorry boss," she stammered, turned to Spencer and waving a hand frantically for him to follow. "We were talking and must have fallen asleep. It won't happen again."

"Be sure it doesn't, Agent Martinez." He didn't add anything else and turned, his long coat flapping around his legs as he walked.

Tony remained behind, smiling from ear to ear, like a child who was about to tell his parents his sibling did something wrong. His eyes traveled from Angie to Spencer and back again. "Careful," she said flatly, shutting the door behind her and her guest, "if you smile too wide, your lips will split in half."

The two argued slightly, as Tony found it appropriate to gloat and tease, while Spencer traveled meekly behind them. He must have been the one to fall asleep first, because he couldn't recall when he'd placed his arms around her midsection, or when she'd pressed her head against his neck. It was all very confusing.

Once in the car, they traveled back to the precinct quietly, as Gibbs was in no mood to talk. Angie was fine with this. Talking to Spencer would be too awkward anyway.

The BAU team was already there when they arrived. When Spencer walked into the room, all but Morgan looked at him with questioning eyes. Nobody knew where he'd gone, and had tried his cell several times. Spencer realized he must have turned it off at some point. Another thing he couldn't quite remember, though it was probably around the time they turned on the television.

Morgan took great care to edge across the room, coming to a silent stop next to Spencer. He didn't say anything as they discussed how they would catch this serial killer.

"Given that the unsub will not deviate from his pattern again, it is probable that he will strike the next time it rains." Hotchner stood at the front of the room, next to Gibbs.

There was a woman on speakerphone, someone NCIS had come to know as Garcia. "It's supposed to rain tonight," she said, the sound of typing in the background. "There's an eighty percent chance of rain around ten tonight."

Gibbs turned around and looked at the map behind him, each of the locations circled in red. "The first two were attacked at Middlefield Park, the other at a smaller one a mile away, which was only a block from the victim's house. Petty Officer Lopez's house is three blocks from that location."

"He's trolling the area," Angie announced, even though they'd already gone over that before. "He's probably driving around, searching the area. Maybe he pulls over when he sees his victim in the park, pretends to ask them for directions, then rapes and kills them."

Prentiss nodded her head in agreement. "She's right. We should patrol the area tonight for cars that are driving slowly through these neighborhoods."

"No." Angie had been thinking about this a little, but hadn't said anything before. "We need to send someone in, someone that fits that description. Undercover. We have a better shot of catching him that way. We can't just pull over every slow-moving car we see, it'll tip him off."

Gibbs crossed his arms, tilting his chin upwards slightly. "Are you suggesting we send you in, Martinez?"

She fidgeted with her badge, a bit afraid to answer. Being in the field was new for her. She was still a Probie. From what Tony and Ziva had told her, Gibbs hadn't been too happy about a new agent being placed in his unit, which explained a lot about his reluctance to take her to crime scenes. Part of her wanted to go undercover to catch the creep that was killing women, while the other half really wanted to please her new boss.

"Yes, boss."

The room was quiet for a moment, and Burgess broke the silence. "I don't see a problem with it. She's right about tipping him off, and she fits the description perfectly. Hispanic, blonde, athletic. It could be a while before he strikes again, considering there aren't that many Latina blondes in this area. He might not even stay here for that long. All these crimes are recent. He could move on to somewhere else."

Gibbs wasn't too sure on the idea, but he was cornered. Martinez was inexperienced, and could barely stand being in autopsy. He didn't know if she could handle going undercover to catch a very dangerous criminal. At the same time, Burgess and Martinez both had a good point. They might lose their opportunity to catch the guy if they didn't send her out.

"Please, let me do it," Angie said, her voice noticeable softer. She was terrified.

Hotchner looked at Gibbs, as it wasn't his agent he would be giving the okay to. "Agent Gibbs," he said, leaning in slightly so that only Gibbs could hear, "we need to do this."

Another silence played out before Gibbs sighed, took a drink of his coffee, and nodded. "Well, what are you waiting for? Get ready."